The Treasure of Saarlos
by CodeOperator
Summary: The story of a group of young adventurers on a quest to defeat a dragon. Yes, I suck at descriptions, let's hope the story's better, shall we? Rated T for violence, suggestive themes, and some minor language.
1. Ranger Uruvion

**Author's Note: Well ladies and gentlemen, I suppose I've branched out quite a bit; D&D if you could believe it. This is going to be a new venture for me, not only in subject but in the fact that this is going to be chaptered, not another oneshot like I'm used to. This is going to largely be a sort of writing experiment. I want to see if I can write fantasy, write in chapters, and maintain quality over time. Anyway, that's enough rambling from me, hope you enjoy the first chapter of "The Treasure of Saarlos." **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Dungeons and Dragons, that honor belongs to the Wizards of the Coast. There is homebrew in this section that you are free to use. The characters Uruvion, Erulisse, Lady Aranel, Auctor, Jorisse, Norim, Colloniel, Saarlos the Red, Greshkan, and any other original characters belong to me. Do not use them without my explicit permission.**

She was dying. He knew in his heart that she was dying, and it was all his fault. His wife cried out in pain, gripped his hand, and he frantically tried to hopelessly reassure her that everything would be okay. She was dying. She was one step closer to the grave than before, holding her newborn child in her arms. The squirming, wailing, despicable creature cried as the cool air of the night hit him. She comforted him, humming a lullaby that her mother had sung to her on fitful nights. She was dying. The lullaby grew quieter and quieter, her arms dropping slowly to the ground, her eyes growing dull. She looked up one last time to her husband and attempted to speak, but nothing came out. A maelstrom of emotions took hold of him, rapturing his sense from his mind. Sadness, despair, anger, rage, and hate swirled within him like an inferno. He glared down with eyes ablaze with fury at the squirming child. He could kill him, right here, right now. He reached to his dagger, withdrew it from its sheath, and held it to the babe's tiny neck. However, just before he drew it across his neck, something took hold of him, some sense of compassion, if it could be called that. He bowed his head, tears freely streaming from his eyes as he picked up his wife's body and walked away from the crying infant, never to return.

Two sets of orbs glowed as bright as the day in the night, reflecting perfectly the light of the moon, one pair blue, and the other violet. A young Eladrin couple walked hand in hand in the woods. They enjoyed this so, being alone in each other's presence in the beauty of nature. A gleaming whitesteel short sword hung at the man's side, a symbol of his status as a Fey Knight. They were both expensively garbed in hues of green and gold, the Maavik family colors, a noble couple if there ever was one. Their hair was long, wispy, and loose, a sign of their Fey heritage.  
>"Arutor?" The woman inquired of her husband.<br>"Yes, my dear?" The gold-haired man replied.  
>The woman hesitated, worried of how to properly ask the question, but decided to simply say it.<br>"When shall we bear a child?"  
>The man slowed his pace a bit and introspectively blinked. The thought had occurred to him as well late at night while she meditated.<p>

"Well," he slowly began, mulling over every word mentally. "I suppose we could start now if you so desired."  
>She blinked at the scandalous thought. "You mean here? Now?"<br>"No!" The man blushed and nervously ran his free hand through his hair. "When we return, of course. Decency, wife!"  
>She laughed jovially, pleased at the success of her jest.<br>"I was merely jesting, husband."  
>"I, ahem, yes, of course I knew that."<br>She rolled her eyes playfully. "Of course you did, my brave knight."  
>"Speaking of babies," Arutor began, stopping and intently listening to his surroundings, "I think I just heard a cry. Jorise, did you hear that?"<br>Jorise listened and knelt, using her nature magic to locate the source of the wail. At first, nothing but trees, animals, the stray owl, but there! Off to their right about fifty meters away lay a lone infant.  
>"Husband, there!" She pointed and dashed off, the foliage and branches bending out of her way as she ran. Arutor, unimbued with the powers of a Druid, was not as lucky, branches smacking him in the face and tangling his ankles and shins as he ran. By the time he managed to muscle his way through the foliage, he saw Jorise knelt in a small clearing, swaddling an infant in her cloak. She looked to her husband, frantically searching for the parents.<br>"They must have gone somewhere, maybe there was an accident, there's blood!"  
>"Nobody leaves a baby in the woods, Jorise, not even Orcs! We can solve this tomorrow, this little one will freeze if we don't get him to safety." He knelt and took the child, scanning for threats as his wife stood again by his side. He gently rocked the child in his arms, noticing instantly that he was human.<br>"We can find them tomorrow, yes? Let's just get home."  
>She slowly nodded and took the child back into her arms, cradling him expertly, a natural mother. She began to sing an elfish lullaby to the babe, hoping to soothe him. Strangely, the language calmed the boy, and he was soon fast asleep.<br>"Come," he put his arm protectively over her shoulders. "Let's go home."

The young man backed up slowly, three blade-wielding Eladrin teens approaching him. This was far from optimal, his two partners had already been eliminated early on, taking none of the opposing team with them. He chanced a look at the balcony above to view his family. His mother looked with on with worry, certain that her Uruvion was far too young to be engaging in competitive fighting. His father, however, couldn't disagree more. The Eladrin knight was proud of the capable swordsman that his adopted son had become. Of course he knew he was adopted, he was a human amongst high elves. Dark brown eyes and hair, pupils, comparatively short hair and even stubble that he had begrudgingly shaved at the request of his parents. He was of a slightly more muscular and athletic build than his parents, though not by much. Lean, one might call him, unlike the lithe Eladrin. His little sister, a mere ten years old, watched with wide sky-blue eyes, eager to see every move that her human brother made. She had golden hair like her mother, but kept it shoulder length, only slightly longer than Uruvion, something Jorise and Arutor simply couldn't understand. What little high-elf girl would ever want to cut her hair?  
>The Eladrin were almost upon him, and he readied his blade, an Eladrin short sword.<br>"Come on, Uruvion, afraid to lose to the better race?" The teens taunted him incessantly, but this was where he dominated.  
>"I should ask the same of you," he grinned wolfishly as he picked up a longsword from the ground, swapping his short sword into his left hand and tossing the longsword into his right. The three red-armored fighters paused and reevaluated their situation. Uruvion was known for having a natural talent when fighting with two swords, to the point where even if he was outnumbered he would come out on top. He shed his blue-plated helmet, painted in the colors of his team, and stood at the ready.<br>"Come on you bunch of cowards," their leader proclaimed, "There's one of him and three of us!"  
>The three members of the red team, invigorated with their leader's confidence, advanced once more. Their leader, ever the glory hound, swung his sword first. Uruvion's blades snapped up faster than lightning, crossed in front of him to catch the blade. Using this leverage, he forced the sword caught in his two to the ground and lashed out with his foot and connected with the pinned swordsman's head, causing the leader to stumble back and drop to the ground, thoroughly unconscious. He looked at the remaining two and flipped his hair out of his eyes.<br>"Who's next?"  
>The two fearfully looked at each other, and then decided against all logic to charge screaming. Uruvion caught the first blade with his longsword, stepping forward and sliding it up the length of the edge to close the gap before slamming the pommel of his short sword into his helmet with enough force to dent it. He heard the telltale swish of a blade being drawn back to strike and ducked instinctively under the blade, mule kicking backwards into the offending swordsman's gut before whirling around and stopping his short sword mere centimeters from his throat.<br>"Yield," he ordered sternly.  
>The terrified Eladrin teen dropped his sword and shakily raised his hands.<br>"I yield, I yield!" He said, his voice shaking with fear.  
>"Wise move." Uruvion lowered his sword and sheathed it, helping up his formerly "Dead" allies at his feet.<br>"Yay!" His little sister, young Lady Aranel, ran to her big brother and hugged him, in awe of his swordsmanship. His father also approached, patting his shoulder with pride.  
>"Well done, son."<br>The young human smirked and looked to his mother, sitting with her unusually pale face buried in her hands.  
>"Are you alright, mother?"<br>"Yes, son," she muttered through her hands. "Just give me a moment."  
>"She'll be fine, she's just worried that you'll get hurt one of these days."<br>"But father," Aranel began, "Who could hurt Uruvion if he didn't want them to?"  
>"Nobody, daughter," he smiled with fatherly affection and ruffled up her hair.<br>"Father," Uruvion said, a much more serious countenance overtaking his features, "Shall we speak now?"  
>The joy once present in Arutor's face drained as quickly as it had arrived. He nodded solemnly and ushered Aranel to her mother before walking back to their house, Uruvion right on his heels. Arutor opened the door to the grand entrance, and walked gracefully to the family hall, sadness apparent on his face. He came to a stop in front of the family painting, gazing at a happier time. Jorise held the infant Aranel in her arms, Uruvion, a child of seven at the time, stood next to his father, a serious gaze on his young features. He sensed his adopted son behind him, silent as usual.<br>"Is this truly what you want?"  
>Uruvion nodded, but then remembered that his father had his back to him and couldn't see his usual silent gestures.<br>"Yes, father. I need to discover myself, my heritage, who I am-"  
>"And what will you do with that knowledge?" Arutor interrupted. "Will you be some greater citizen for it? A superior knight? Your heritage matters not, you're my son, you have been from the day you were born."<br>Uruvion bowed his head. He knew well that he had been abandoned on the day of his birth, and fully understood that he owed his life to his adoptive parents.  
>"And I will be forever grateful. However, I do not feel that I belong here. I'm a human among Eladrin, just look at Aranel. She's been getting bullied for her hair, she shouldn't have to endure that at her age, she's only ten."<br>"And she'll grow out of it, but you won't grow out of your humanity. I care not what race you are!" He turned suddenly, emotions plain on his elegantly young face, deceptively so for a man of sixty years, appearing as though he was in his early twenties.  
>"Father, I'm a man-"<br>"You're seventeen! By all fey standards, you're a child!"  
>"But I'm not of the Feywild!"<br>"You are! You were born in the Feywild, you've lived here for your entire life! You do belong here!"  
>"No father! No, I don't!" He stopped and closed his eyes, inhaling slowly and exhaling, calming his human temper.<br>"Father, just let me go for a few years. I promise I'll write, I'll keep you informed of my doings. As Aranel said, who can hurt me if I don't wish them to?"  
>The graceful high elf bowed his head and clasped his hands on his son's shoulders, looking him directly in the eye as he uttered an ancient Eladrin blessing.<br>"_May the Feywild keep you safe. May you satisfy your soul. May you return at peace."  
><em>Uruvion respectfully bowed his head and responded in Elven.  
>"<em>Thank you, father."<em>  
>The two men embraced for the last time, and Uruvion went to his room to retrieve his pack and cloak, his father's short sword already strapped to his side.<br>"Your mother will be worried," his father called to him as he walked to the door, ready to embark upon his journey of self-discovery.  
>"I promise I'll write."<br>And with that, he left.

Uruvion awoke slowly, blinking a few times before sitting up and standing upon the dew-coated grass, observing the rising sun. Strange, he'd never been a morning person, but ever since he started sleeping outdoors, he'd been rising synchronously with the sun. It had been a week on the road. According to his map, he should be arriving in a mixed race town in another three days. He yawned, stretched, and rolled his shoulders, easing out the stiffness of sleeping against a tree. _  
>Perhaps being a morning person has its perks,<em> he mused to himself, admiring the golden-red hues of the rising sun.  
><em>Snap.<em>  
>He started and quickly surveyed his surroundings, his hand on his father's whitesteel sword.<br>"Whoever you are, I suggest you come out, or this will not end well for you."  
>His knuckles whitened at the unnatural silence. There were no birds chirping, no squirrels chattering, nothing.<br>"'Ands off the sword, boy, and me and me mates just might let ya live."  
>Uruvion snapped his head around to witness three men step out of the woods, all burly individuals armed way past their teeth. For once, Uruvion was actually nervous. Yes, he'd fought the Eladrin teens of his home city, but these weren't envious teenagers, these were thieves, hardened killers.<br>"I've no wish to injure you gentlemen, but if I must," he drew his father's blade and assumed a defensive posture, "I will kill you."  
>The three looked at each other briefly and then burst out laughing.<br>"This li'l runt thinks 'e can take us?"  
>"Alright boy, ye've got two options. Put yer sword down and take yer beatin', and me and me mates can go on our merry way. Option two, you give us a li'l bit 'o fun and get a ten second head start. Then we track you down, kill you, and take your belongings."<br>Uruvion glanced back to his pack on the ground, noting the small family gem sticking out of the side, a white and green diamond. Seeing no better option, he snatched up his pack and took off running into the woods. He could hear the bandits laughing behind him.  
>"Got a li'l spirit, eh?"<br>"Run boy!"  
>Uruvion smashed through branches and leaves, running with no real destination in mind. He toyed with the idea of climbing a tree, but one of them had a crossbow, if he was spotted he'd be dead, elevation wouldn't mean a thing. So engrossed in these thoughts was he that he smacked into an oak tree, almost knocking himself out. He struggled to his feet, his head swimming. He fought off the sense of vertigo and the splitting headache, shakily drawing his sword to fight up the bandits who were now almost on top of him.<br>"Game over boy," their leader grinned, exposing his yellow teeth. He raised his battle axe over his head to strike, eagerly anticipating the spoils that Uruvion's corpse would offer them.  
><em>Mother, father,<em> he thought to himself as he awaited his end, _I was wrong. Forgive me._  
>He heard something zip through the air impossibly fast, followed by a sickening wet <em>thwack<em>, then a thud. He opened his eyes to see the leader fallen to the ground, an arrow in his throat. A half-elf dressed in green and brown leapt out of a nearby tree and rolled in front of Uruvion, rising with his bow drawn, two arrows nocked, one for each bandit.  
>"Retreat now with what honor you have, scoundrels, and harass this boy no further."<br>The two survivors complied, sheathing their weapons and running away like cowards. Uruvion felt something wet drip from his head onto his bent knee. He touched his hand to his forehead and withdrew it red. The green-cloaked archer replaced his arrows in his quiver and knelt by his side.  
>"Easy boy, you've got a nasty head injury there. Come on, I have some healing herbs, we'll get you right as rain. Come on now, up you go."<br>Uruvion weakly got up and followed the man for about four feet before blacking out.

He awoke dizzy, bandages wrapped around his forehead. Strangely, the pain was gone. He touched his fingers to the wound, but strangely felt no soreness upon contact. He observed his surroundings, noticing that he was indoors. It seemed to be a wood cabin, a fire crackling in the hearth, and a pot of something suspended over it.  
>"Awake at last."<br>He started at the voice and reached down to his side, only to discover his sword missing.  
>"Relax, boy, your sword's just fine. Remarkable craftsmanship too, Eladrin, I think. Looks to belong to a nobleman."<br>Uruvion turned to the man who had saved him.  
>"Did you steal it, boy?"<br>"No," he began, "It was my father's. He was Eladrin."  
>The man quizzically looked at him, noting the lean build and lack of pointed ears.<br>"You don't look like a half-elf to me."  
>"I was adopted, let's leave it at that."<br>The man reclined in his wooden chair adorned with buckskin. "Suit yourself, I suppose. As long as you didn't steal it, you can have it back. Greshkan!"  
>A hulking, six foot seven Dragonborn with golden scales and polished armor walked through the doorway. Uruvion was unsure of what to make of him. He'd heard that Dragonborn were honorable to a fault, so he could most likely be trusted, but what was he doing away from his clan?<br>"Your sword, young master." The large man-dragon knelt and held his sword out to him, newly polished and sharpened.  
>"Thank you," Uruvion hesitantly said, accepting the blade.<br>There was an awkward silence between the three until the green-clad half-elf clapped his hands together.  
>"Well, on with introductions. My name," he stood and bowed, "Is Auctor. I'm the Ranger of these woods, as assigned by the Emerald Council.<br>"And I," the Dragonborn rose, his gravelly, almost ancient voice reverberating throughout the cabin, "Am Greshkan, of Clan Arkos." He respectfully bowed deeply, aware of the fact that the young human before him was nobility, even if he didn't act or dress like it. "And before you ask, I'm on a quest from my clan, I have not abandoned them, and I shan't be hunted, bringing danger to you."  
>"Now the question," Auctor began, "Is what are you doing in these woods?"<br>"I…" Uruvion paused, collecting his thoughts. "I'm on a journey of self-discovery. I wish to explore and better myself. There's a mixed race town just three days of here, or so my map indicated. I wish to train to become something other than my father, something like," he trailed off, remembering what Auctor had said, "Something like you."  
>"Well my boy," Auctor smirked and sipped a cup of coffee he'd set on the table next to Uruvion's cot. "I suppose I could take on an apprentice. That is, of course, if you're interested."<br>"You'd be a fool to refuse," Greshkan stated. "Auctor is the finest Ranger I've ever met."  
>"Of course, you could always just try your luck in the town, but hey, it's your choice. So what do you say, boy?"<br>The young man of seventeen weighed his options. He could go into a city and take his chances, but he'd seen what Auctor could do, and he saw his nobility. He _chose_ to intervene and save him, he _chose _to heal him. There was only one real option.  
>"I'm in."<p> 


	2. Lady Aranel

**Author's note: So I'm going to try to update this twice a month, the first and last Friday usually (Or early Saturday, depending on where you live). Although the particular Fridays may chance, I'm updating bimonthly unconditionally. So yeah, this is the second intro chapter, only one more to go before we begin the adventure in earnest. Bear with me guys, I'm still new to writing fantasy, and I hope y'all enjoy! **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Dungeons and Dragons, that honor belongs to the Wizards of the Coast. There is homebrew in this section that you are free to use. The characters Uruvion, Erulisse, Lady Aranel, Auctor, Jorisse, Norim, Colloniel, Saarlos the Red, Greshkan, and any other original characters belong to me. Do not use them without my explicit permission.**

His mother screamed in agony. He knew why, but it didn't make it any better for the child. The midwives were telling her to push, breathe, and a thousand other minute details that young Uruvion found trivial at best. _Why were they reminding her to breathe? Everyone knows how to breathe._ The boy mused this to himself, attempting to drown out the panicking sound of his mother in pain. He'd tried covering his ears, but that didn't help, nothing seemed to. In a final attempt to escape reality, he thought back to a few months ago on his seventh birthday when his father explained what was to happen in the near future.  
><em>"Son,"<em> His father had placed his hands on his shoulders and knelt to the child's height. _"Your mother is with child, to be born soon. You're going to be a big brother, my son, a very large and very knightly responsibility to protect weaker members of our society. I need you to promise me you'll guide and watch over your younger sibling, be it a brother or sister. Do you promise, son?" _The boy had nodded determinedly, intent on fulfilling his father's expectations of him, though he himself was not sure what all of this meant. _"That's my son." _He had patted him on the shoulder and then risen to return to Jorisse. _"Father, will it be a boy or a girl?"_ He'd stopped and smiled at the question. _"We don't know, son. Yes, the wizards and mages could tell us, but what do we say about magic, son?" "It's cheating, father!" _He'd chuckled at this and proudly ruffled his short hair. _"Aye son, it is."_  
>"Love, we can cheat this once, you're in pain!" His father's shout snapped him out of his reminiscing and back to the present. His mother moaned something and gritted her teeth. The boy approached his parents and tugged on the gilded edge of his father's white and green tunic.<br>"Father, why can't they heal her?" Arutor shook his head worriedly, gripping his wife's hand tightly with anxiety.  
>"She won't let them, son. She wants it to be natural, though I cannot see why."<br>"Better this way," she whispered hoarsely. "Memorable, real."  
>Arutor stared incredulously at Jorisse for a good seven seconds before speaking again.<br>"It'll be plenty memorable with some healing magic or even some herbs!"  
>She vehemently shook her head, eyes squeezed shut.<br>"The baby's almost here, push!" The midwives ordered sternly. His mother cried out in pain once more, and Uruvion placed his hands on his ears, closed his eyes, and tried to shut it all out. Then there was crying, but not from his mother. He cautiously opened his eyes and uncovered his ears to witness a baby being swaddled in a blanket and handed caringly to his mother. She lovingly caressed its face, tears welling in her eyes.  
>"It's a girl, my lady."<br>She gasped and placed a hand over her mouth. She had a daughter, she couldn't have been more happy.  
>"Aranel. She shall be Lady Aranel."<p>

"Slay them, 'Vion!" The young girl cried out ecstatically. Her older brother was alone against the three older Eladrin, but she knew in her young and faithful heart that he would win. Her mother cast an aghast glance at her daughter's sudden exclamation, already pale watching her son fight, even if it was training. Aranel, however, couldn't be more ecstatic. Her father watched, wisdom evident in his eyes, analyzing every swing, every step, every shift in motion. The young human then locked his sword with his opponent's and side-kicked him in the head hard enough to make the helmeted Eladrin youth collapse like a ragdoll on the ground. Aranel cheered even louder at this spectacular takedown, jumping with glee so violent that her mother grew quite worried. Her father nodded, his focused gaze never leaving the battlefield, entirely still except for occasionally reaching up to sweep his long golden hair aside.  
>"Aranel darling, perhaps you should go play with your friends, yes?"<br>Aranel turned incredulously to her mother. "Mother, I wish to watch 'Vion slay his enemies!"  
>"That's not a healthy thing to say," her mother gulped, face paling even further than her usual porcelain color.<br>"Relax, my love," Arutor said, taking a moment to glance and smile reassuringly at his wife. "It's perfectly healthy, I assure you. Uruvion is to inherit his place in our city as a Fey Knight, it's only natural for him to wish to hone his already admirable skills."  
>"It's not just our son I worry for," Jorisse said, burying her face in her hands.<br>"Aranel will grow up to be a lovely lady of the court, my love. However, I should like for her to know how to properly defend herself for when she is without our protection." He sat next to her and placed his hand on her shoulder, caressing her cheek with the other and lifting her chin to look her in her violet eyes.  
>"Our children are perfectly healthy. Nothing will happen to them."<br>"Aye mother!" The child approached and held her mother's hand with her smaller two. "I'll be the most graceful of them all!"  
>Jorisse smiled, a bit of color returning to her snow white face.<br>"Thank you. Both of you. I suppose I'm just not used to all this…fighting."  
>"Well, love, it attracted you to me, did it not?"<br>She rolled her luminescent eyes, smirking jovially. "Only because your sword wasn't compensating for anything."  
>He paled at this latest innuendo from his wife, and in front of their child no less!<br>"Well, yes, ahem…" he struggled to make coherent thoughts as Aranel cocked her head at her parents, blissfully innocent.  
>Suddenly, a loud crash and a sickening crack sounded, and all three rushed to the edge of the balcony to observe the grassy field below. There, another Eladrin youth lay unconscious, his helmet dented beyond repair, no doubt a trip to the healer would be required. Aranel shouted even louder at the sight of Uruvion holding his short sword to his opponent's throat.<br>"Yield," he sternly ordered.  
>The youth issued a stream of incoherent babble that vaguely resembled, "I yield, I yield!"<br>"Wise move," he said, sheathing his blade before kneeling to help up his "Dead" teammates, returning the longsword to its rightful owner.  
>"Yay!" Aranel rushed down the flight of stairs and hugged her adopted brother, pure admiration gleaming in her sky blue eyes. Her father also congratulated him with pride and placed his hand on his shoulder whilst Jorisse sat recovering on the balcony.<br>"Are you alright mother?" Aranel giggled at this, knowing the frail disposition of their mother.  
>"Yes, son." Her pallid face hidden by her hands. "Just give me a moment."<br>Arutor spoke up, "She'll be fine, she's just worried that you'll get hurt one of these days."  
>Aranel couldn't comprehend this notion. Sure, her mother was a worrywart, but the thought of someone hurting Uruvion was inconceivable. In her little eyes, he was invincible, his swordsmanship near godlike.<br>"But father," Aranel began, putting voice to her thoughts, ""Who could hurt Uruvion if he didn't want them to?"  
>"Nobody, daughter," he reassured her with fatherly affection, ruffling her comparatively short hair, as was his customary sign of affection.<br>"Father," he began, patting Aranel on the head to let her know she should leave. "Shall we speak now?"  
>She obediently trotted to her mother, giggling like the child she was.<br>"Mother, it was amazing! He won handily!"  
>"I know, darling, I know." She leaned back and sighed. "Doesn't make what's to come any easier."<br>Aranel became confused and held her mother's hand with concern.  
>"What's the matter, mother? He shan't die, I know it. Nothing can hurt him if he doesn't want it to, you've seen him!"<br>"Indeed, my child. But…perhaps we should take a walk. I have something to explain that you may not understand."  
>"Okay," she obediently clung to her mother's hand and walked down the ivory stairs and onto the white walkway, confusion and a tinge of fear evident on her face.<p>

After about ten minutes of walking in silence, Jorisse sighed and stopped.  
>"Aranel, there is no easy way to say this. Your brother is leaving."<br>Her little heart, once filled with hope, admiration, and unbridled joy was instantly stopped.  
>"W…what?" She forced the words out, fear filling her eyes. "You're jesting, aye mother?"<br>"I wish I was, my darling." She knelt down on both knees and hugged her stunned daughter close.  
>"He'll be back someday. He just needs to find himself, find who he is."<br>"He's my brother," she whispered through the shock.  
>"Yes, child, and he always will be." She leaned back, her hands resting lovingly on her daughter's cheeks. "But he's going away, he may not come back until he's a man."<br>"Then I shall go with him!" She insisted with such pitiful courage, it made tears well up in her mother's eyes.  
>"You can't, love, you belong here. You're safe here, you'll be the lady you were meant to be." A tear slipped from her mother's violet eye.<br>"But…" and then young Lady Aranel fainted.

"Aranel."  
>The girl awoke with a start. "Don't go!" She shouted in fear, still in the state of her nightmare. Her sky blue eyes opened, blinking twice to make sure the man before her wasn't the result of her awaking recently from sleep.<br>"I'm here, sister, I'm not leaving. Not yet."  
>Tears once again stained her porcelain cheeks as she reached up and hugged her cloaked brother, dressed in the white, green, and gold travelling cloak of his human Maavik family, the very thing he'd been swaddled with as a baby, and incidentally the same colors of his Eladrin family, though they had no name, as the family simply referred to themselves as the sons of their fathers, therefore Uruvion's "Surname" was Arutorion, meaning son of Arutor. However, lately he'd taken to using his human surname, Maavik.<br>"I had a nightmare," she frantically began, "You were fighting and you won, mother took me away, she told me you were leaving, it was horrible!"  
>"Aranel…" he sat on her bedside and wrapped his arm around his high elf sister. "It wasn't a nightmare. I'm leaving. However, I will return. I promise you, my sister, I shall write you at every opportunity."<br>"But I don't want you to go!"  
>"And I wish I could take you with me, but it's far too dangerous out there." He leaned down and kissed the frail child's forehead. "Get some sleep, it's late."<br>"Aye, brother." She sniffled sadly and buried herself in the sheets. Uruvion stood, bowed his head, and exited the door into the cool night air.

_THUNK. THUNK. THUNK._  
>Aranel angrily loaded another arrow, barely aimed, and fired again at the target. <em>THUNK.<em> Another miss. She seethed as she reached for yet another arrow, only to find her quiver empty. She frustratedly advanced to the target, retrieving the ornate family arrows. They were well crafted, the shaft a beautiful forest green with golden fletching, the broadhead tip forged of heat treated traditional Eladrin whitesteel.  
>"Aranel, you won't hit anything if you're angry."<br>She closed her eyes and counted to three before responding.  
>"I'm not angry, father, just frustrated at this horrid bow."<br>Her father stepped beside her and pried out a stubborn arrow that she was struggling with.  
>"It's not the bow, child. That bow has been in our family for generations." He hefted in in his hand, eyeing it with a masterful gaze. It was formed of an extremely flexible green metal, golden etchings and elvish runes engraved upon it. The string was of a variant of whitesteel, designed to be flexible, but taut enough to snap back and act properly as a bowstring. He walked Aranel back to the firing line and readied an arrow himself.<br>"Observe, child."  
>"I'm sixteen, father, hardly a child."<br>"You're Eladrin, not even a tenth through your life cycle." He let the arrow fly, the culmination of his years of experience with weapons of all sorts materializing in the form of his arrow, striking the target true, dead center in the bullseye. He turned to Aranel and offered her the bow once more.  
>"Now try again, but with peace."<br>She grudgingly accepted the bow and counted to three once more. She exhaled softly as she nocked her arrow and drew the bowstring back, the golden fletching tickling her cheek. She entered into a meditative trance state, focusing on the target, on peace. She softly and slowly exhaled, envisioning the arrow striking just as her father's had. She closed her eyes, inhaled once more, counted to three, and exhaled, opening her eyes.  
>And she let it fly.<br>The arrow sailed through the air like the aquanauts of human legend, striking the man-sized target with enough force to knock the hay-stuffed figure over. She lowered the bow and actually smiled for the first time in the six years since her brother had left.  
>"Well done, Aranel." Her father ruffled her hair, something she had grown to find endearing, if a bit annoying. She smoothed her golden hair and sighed, setting the bow down on the weapons rack.<br>"Father," she spoke hesitantly, "Is it time? Shall we find him? You know he hasn't written, though he said he would, and he's not one to break his word, you know this!"  
>"Indeed, daughter, I know. And I agree."<br>"Then I'm coming with you."  
>The duo looked up to see their mother already in her travelling cloak approaching. The cloak was ornate, green cloth with a white blossoming tree on the back, gold lining the edge.<br>"My love, are you well?"  
>She waved aside her husband. "I'm fine, Arutor. I decided just this once, I could cheat, for our son's sake." She raised her hand, glowing green with healing magic.<br>He nodded, smirking at his old axiom.  
>"We shall need a guide."<br>"I've already arranged for one," the cloaked woman stated proudly. "His name's Auctor, a half-elf ranger, entrusted with guarding the forest our son was last seen in. He's assigned his apprentice to guide us."  
>"And you trust this apprentice?"<br>"I trust Auctor, I knew him as a child, and he trusts his apprentice, which is good enough for me."  
>Arutor nodded at this, trusting his wife's judgment, as it was usually right.<br>"Well then, seeing as you're already prepared, Aranel and I shall get dressed and pack our supplies, then we shall be off."  
>Aranel beamed with joy, her eyes becoming even more luminescent. At long last, they were going to find her brother!<p>

The guide had appeared from nowhere, his face painted green and black and his hood pulled low over his face, obscuring his features, save a strong chin, scarred lip, and stubble. He wore a leather breastplate, greaves, and a shoulder pauldron on his right shoulder with an oddly familiar symbol on it. His cloak was green with white and subdued gold on it, the patterning resembling that of a wolf on the hood. At his side on his leather belt were two blades, a longsword and an elvish short sword. His clothing was simple yet rugged. His pants were brown in color and built of a durable cloth, with leather kneepads built into them, scuffed and scarred from use. His shirt was green and collared, thin in the chest where his breastplate was, thicker and of a different material on the sleeves.  
>"You summoned me?"<br>His voice was deep and gravelly, but sung of nobility and had an air of superiority about it.  
>"Yes," Jorisse was the first to speak, and eagerly so. "We're looking for a young man, human, he should be about twenty and two years of age. He was last seen in these woods about six years ago, have you seen him?"<br>The young man froze at this, but quickly regained his composure. "Many pass through these woods. However, we may be able to find your son, if you'll follow me."  
>"Wait," Aranel spoke up curiously. "We never said he was my brother or their son."<br>"I simply assumed. Why else would you be looking for a young man in these woods so fervently?"  
>Aranel conceded and stepped back to her father's side. The guide sized up his charges, the three of them obviously Eladrin nobility based on their garb, but their hoods obscured their faces. There was something oddly familiar about them, but that was quickly dismissed. Curiosity kills the Ranger, Auctor had always said. But he'd also said that sometimes it leads to great reward. He would investigate them when they stopped for the night.<br>"Well then," he spoke authoritatively, "Shall we be off?"  
>"Aye," Aranel responded, almost competitively, feeling challenged by the man's regal air, "We shall."<br>He nodded and turned, beckoning them to follow as he marched deep into the woods, the noble family trailing tightly behind him.

The campfire burned quietly, made swiftly and expertly by the young ranger. The family sat on a log, the frail looking woman tucked into the crook of her husband's arm. The daughter wouldn't stop staring at him with those bright blue eyes, it was actually quite unnerving.  
>"So tell me," he spoke quietly, not wishing to disturb the peace of the forest, "Your son has been missing for six years, yes? Why are you just now searching for him?"<br>The couple looked at each other, azure to violet eyes unblinking, then turning to the ranger.  
>"My wife is of a… frail constitution. She cannot handle the rigors of travel as well as you or I. She's a druid, you see, and after losing our son, her emotions became far less focused, and as such, her powers waned. Only recently was she truly able to regain full control and heal herself for this journey."<br>Something clicked in what he heard, but what? He mentally scoured the man's speech, searching for whatever had alerted his brain. He searched and searched, but he just couldn't find it. Then, he did.  
>"What did you say your wife was, my lord?"<br>"A druid, ranger. And please," he extended his hand to shake, "Call me Arutor."  
>That was it. Druid, Arutor, azure and violet eyes, the sky blue ones of the girl, the noble attire, the frail constitution, this was his family! He was who they were searching for! But could he tell them? Was he ready? Were they? Doubt filled him as he reached over and shook his father's youthful hand.<br>"I didn't catch your name, Ranger."  
>He was silent. It was now or never. A maelstrom of conflicting thoughts ran rampant within him. Possibilities, outcomes, risks, rewards, they all swirled within him like a typhoon of self-conflict, one half battling the other. However, he couldn't stay silent, he had to provide an answer. Either give them a false name, or his true one and reveal himself. It was time to decide.<br>"I," he began, halting and steeling himself momentarily, "Am Uruvion Arutorion." He threw his hood back, revealing his green and black painted face. His mother gasped and put her hands to her mouth. His father stood abruptly, his heart racing and breath accelerating. The child was silent.  
>"BROTHER!" She screamed and launched herself at him, knocking him off of his log and hugging him as tight as her lithe arms possibly could.<br>"Hello, Lady Aranel."  
>She giggled at his use of her noble title. He sat up to witness tears of joy streaming freely down his mother's face.<br>"Son…" his father breathed in shock. Uruvion stood and approached his father and knelt before him, his head bowed.  
>"Forgive me, father. I should've written, and I have no excuse other than the fact that I was extremely busy. However, I shan't ask your forgiveness, as I deserve it not. I simply ask your mercy on this prodigal son."<br>He waited in silence for a response for about thirty full seconds. Suddenly, he heard the sound of his father's sword being drawn. He gritted his teeth, knowing he fully deserved this punishment. He awaited the blow obediently, eyes closed. Then, the strangest thing. The flat edge was touched first to his left shoulder, then to his right. A hand was placed on his shoulder as the sword was replaced into its scabbard.  
>"Arise, my son. Arise, Uruvion, Fey Knight."<br>Uruvion opened his eyes in shock and stood shakily, standing eye to eye with his adoptive father. He pulled him in for a warm, fatherly, long overdue embrace.  
>"Welcome back, son."<br>His mother stood, still weeping with joy and joined the hug. Lastly but certainly not least, Aranel, the shortest of them all, stood and joined, completing the family embrace.  
>"Brother," Aranel began with excitement, "Now that we've found you, we can go home!"<br>"Perhaps," he replied unsteadily. "I must speak with my mentor, Auctor. He shall grant me permission to leave once he inducts me into the Ranger Corps tomorrow."  
>"Then let us be off at once!" His mother looked at him hopefully, joy apparent in her young voice. "No need to waste time at night, how far away is he?"<br>"Not very far, actually. When I first found him, I was wandering with no true direction. Now that I know the ways of this forest, we can be there by tomorrow morning if we leave now. But mother, I must ask, are you truly alright enough to travel at night? Are you sure you shouldn't enter your trance for the night?"  
>"Yes, my child, I've never been more sure in my life."<br>He turned to his sister and father.  
>"Need I even ask of you two? Father, you've retained your knightly trim. And Aranel, my, you've become quite the warrior I see." He glanced at the quiver on her back and then to the bow on her log.<br>"Is that the family bow?"  
>"Aye, father's been teaching me to shoot."<br>"I suppose I'll need a demonstration of this when we return home. But I digress." He looked at each of his adoptive family in turn. "Shall we be off?"

Uruvion knelt before his mentor, his family standing in awe to the side.  
>"Uruvion, son of Arutor, son of Eredhion, what do you seek?"<br>"Nature."  
>"What can Nature offer you?"<br>"Peace, wisdom, and strength."  
>"What can you offer Nature?"<br>"My service, my guardianship, and my life."  
>"Uruvion, son of Arutor, son of Eredhion, I bid thee to rise. Rise as a Ranger in service of the Emerald Council, guardian of Altalonde Forest."<br>Uruvion rose, his ordinarily sarcastic and sardonic mentor uncharacteristically stoic as he pinned the green crossed blades under the bow to his collar, the symbol of his status as a ranger. The two stood there in silence for a few seconds before Auctor breathed a sigh of relief, speaking normally once more.  
>"Oh, thank the gods, I thought that boring rubbish'd never be over. Now then, anyone want drinks? I've a little cabinet with some wine, a bit strong, but might be to your liking, eh?"<br>"No thank you, Auctor," Jorisse spoke jovially, "I'm afraid we must be off."  
>"Oh, a pity," he said smirking, "Now I'll be all alone with all this wine, what am I to do? Oh, life's great problems. Oh who am I kidding?" And with that, he popped the cork on a bottle he procured seemingly from nowhere and started drinking.<br>"Anyway," he wiped his red-stained mouth with his sleeve and set his bottle down on a shelf. "You folks need a horse or two? Uruvion knows how to ride 'em, although ole Faelwen can be a bit temperamental if you don't feed her regularly. And I do mean regularly."  
>"We'll be fine on foot, Auctor," Arutor responded, not entirely trusting the drinking half-elf.<br>"Well if it's returning 'em you're worried about, they know the way home. But ah well, suit yourselves. Good to meet the family, boy." He turned to Jorisse and kissed her hand, "Always a pleasure, Jorissse."  
>She blushed redder than her husband at this and quickly ushered her family out the door, leaving Arutor with a raised eyebrow and many questions for the journey home.<br>"Ey, you there!"  
>The four stopped upon exiting the house, a startling sight before them. Five heavily armed bandits stood in Auctor's yard, their leader riding on an owlbear, an axe in his hand.<br>"Remember me, boy?"  
>The brigand pulled down his collar to reveal a broadhead shaped scar. Uruvion's eyes widened at this sight, instinctively stepping in front of his family and drawing both of his blades.<br>"Come no further, scoundrels, I'm far more powerful than when we last met!"  
>"Oh, I'm sure ye are, that's why I've brought a few more o' me mates and good ole bess here!" He patted the owlbear, which roared with a fearsome mix of a hoot and a roar. Uruvion had faced these beasts before. Naturally aggressive, they were tough creatures, never backing off and never going down without a serious fight. Alone, one was bad enough, but with five bandits with it, this wouldn't end well.<br>"What do you want, fiends?"  
>"To finish what business we left off on!" He hefted his axe into a ready position. "Killin' you. And now that ye've brought yer family, I think we'll be killin' them too! Except for the pretty ones," He eyed Jorisse and Aranel with a devilish stare, "I know some mates in the city that'll pay well for you two."<br>"You will stand down," Arutor drew his whitesteel longsword, "Or you shall be cut down!"  
>The brigand leader laughed at this. "You an' what army, li'l man?"<br>"No army," Auctor said, stepping out of the house, an arrow already nocked, "Just me. Remember this here bow? How's about I put this arrow a little higher, maybe in your skull this time, just to be safe?"  
>Aranel drew her bow as well, nocking an arrow and aiming at the heart of the closest flail wielding raider. "I think my arrow fancies your heart as much as your boss' friends in the city fancy me and my mother." She adopted a wolfish expression she'd picked up from her brother and made her own, fearsome in its own right, not to mention the very sharp object she was ready to let fly.<br>"Ye might take out a few of us," the leader spoke again, "But we'll kill ye all the same. Ye can't win. Just submit and we might consider makin' it quick."  
>"I'd rather go down fighting, if you don't mind." Uruvion turned swiftly to his mother. "Mother, get inside, find something to defend yourself, go!" His mother obliged, locking the front door behind her.<br>"Father," he whispered. "Has Aranel ever killed a man?"  
>"No, son."<br>"Lovely."  
>"Oi!" The brigand waved his axe in the air. "Quit yer chattin'!" He turned to his men angrily. "Kill 'em all!"<br>The bandits charged, screaming madly. Surprisingly, Aranel let her arrow fly, but into her target's knee, causing him to drop to the ground, clutching his knee and screaming in pain. Arutor masterfully twirled his sword and severed the chain on another flail wielding bandit before running him through. However, Auctor's shot failed to do any damage, as the leader raised a shield at the last second to block the shot. Uruvion fought madly, blocking strike after strike, parrying and retaliating, but scoring no critical hits. Unfortunately, Uruvion couldn't be everywhere at once.  
>"Son, behind you!"<br>Uruvion turned at the very last second, blade already raised defensively, but only to be struck by a hammer wielding bandit. He fell to the ground, clutching his shattered arm in agony. He looked up, vision blurry with pain. The bandit raised his hammer for the killing blow, but just as he was about to begin the downward arc, he stopped. Blood dribbled from his lips, and he fell sideways, his mother with a bloody kitchen knife standing in his place.  
>"Son!" She raised her glowing green hand and began to heal him, mending broken bone, cartilage, and flesh in a matter of seconds. Soon, he was whole again. Then, the roar came. That dreadful, awful, horrendous roar. Jorisse turned, frozen in fear. The owlbear raised its claws. She tried to move, but her feet were rooted to the ground. Uruvion shouted for her to move as he scrambled to his feet, but not fast enough. The claws fell, tearing into her flesh, her once beautiful cloak shredded to bloody ribbons as she fell lifelessly to the ground.<br>"NO!" Arutor approached the body in horror. Fear, hate, despair filled his eyes, then, something else. His father dropped his sword and stood, closing his eyes, head bowed.  
>"Father, you can't surrender!"<br>He opened his eyes, the azure orbs crackling with lightning.  
>"Surrendering is the last thing on my mind." With that, he shouted at the top of his lungs and threw his lightning-laced hands forth, electrocuting the owlbear and its rider, causing the beast to roar in rage and rear up, throwing its spasming rider. It raised its claw to strike again. Arutor raised his hand for another blast, but that one had taken all he had from him. He collapsed to his knees as he felt the white hot stinging sensation of the creature's claws digging into his chest. Uruvion roared with rage and charged, swinging his longsword. The blow slashed across its eyes, blinding it. As it howled in pain, he leaped upon its head and raised his elvish short sword high, shouting to the heavens before plunging it downwards into the beast's skull, slaying it. The great beast crashed into the ground with a great howl, shaking the very earth itself.<br>Uruvion stood and wiped away the blood that had spurted onto his face with a shaking hand. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, altering his thinking, but enhancing his physical prowess. Not all the adrenaline in the world could prepare him for the biting sensation of the bandit leader's axe hacking deep into his shoulder, slowed by his pauldron. He sunk to his knees, frozen in white hot pain. He felt something warm trickling from his wound, something wet and sticky, something red. His shocked mind finally put together that it was his blood. The leader withdrew his axe and kicked Uruvion from the fallen beast, sending him tumbling to the forest floor and landing with a painful crash. The man jumped from his beast and approached Auctor.  
>"Now what, mongrel? All out of arrows, aren't ya?"<br>Auctor's steely expression faltered for just a second, enough for the bandit to see. He dropped his bow and drew a rapier and a parrying dagger, readying himself for battle. The leader laughed at this and swung his axe, shattering the rapier. Auctor flipped the dagger in his hand and threw it, but the marauder caught it in his shield. The ranger grimaced and charged. The bandit laughed. He bashed Auctor in the face, sending him reeling back and turning around, allowing the cowardly man to swing his axe directly into his spine. Auctor's expression went blank as he collapsed to the ground. The leader laughed hideously again and looked once more to Uruvion, raising his axe above his mentor for the final strike.  
>"Don't you wish you'd just given us your money, boy?"<br>Uruvion closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as he clutched the wound in his shoulder, angled diagonally into his collarbone. Suddenly, he heard a twang followed by a wet _THUNK_. He opened his eyes, vision hazy, but clear enough to see the leader stumbling in place, eyes rolled back into his head. He squinted and looked closer, trying to find what was happening. Then, he saw it. A family arrow was embedded in the back of his skull. The giant man toppled to the ground, as did his killer, the young Lady Aranel.

Aranel awoke slowly, her vision distorted with visions of the man she had shot dead. Then, in one instant, they vanished. She breathed in clearly, noting the smell of blood and burning firewood. She groggily rolled over and saw her unconscious brother lying shirtless on a cot, bloody bandages wrapped around his shoulder. Auctor was sitting in a chair, unmoving. Something, however, was moving about the cabin, and whatever it was, it was big. She glanced about for a weapon, something with which to defend herself, but to no avail. She swallowed and closed her eyes, hoping whatever it was would think she was still asleep. Seconds passed, then minutes.  
>"You can stop pretending to be asleep, my lady."<br>She started awake at the deep, ancient voice of the large golden-scaled dragonborn before her. She frantically renewed her search for a weapon, uncaring of what, just _something_ to ward off this intruder.  
>"Looking for this?" The humanoid dragon's voice rumbled, reverberating throughout the cabin as he knelt and offered her the family bow. The girl didn't move, she dared not accept it from the hulking creature who offered it to her.<br>"Take it, sister."  
>She looked past the dragon to her brother, grimacing in pain.<br>"His name's Greshkan, and he's a friend. It was he who carried us inside and healed us to the best of his abilities. For this, my friend," Uruvion gritted his teeth and utilized his incredible endurance to ignore the pain as he sat upright, allowing him to slightly bow. "You have my thanks, and my loyalty."  
>Greshkan returned the slight bow to Uruvion, kneeling at his bedside to look him in the eye. "It was the least I could do, my friend. My only regret is that I did not arrive sooner. The clan has had me hunting those fiends that attacked you for years, though now I suppose my work is done."<br>"Wait," Aranel fearfully began, "What happened to mother, to father?"  
>The two warriors exchanged glances, and Uruvion nodded. Greshkan turned to the Eladrin girl with a sigh and knelt once more.<br>"I am sorry, my lady, but when I arrived, they had already passed on." He bowed his head in regret. "Forgive me, for I did not arrive in time to save them."  
>"No…" Aranel's eyes welled with tears which swiftly began rolling down her cheeks.<br>Uruvion summoned his peak endurance once more and slowly swung his legs over the cot and stood, shakily walking to his sister and embracing her, his eyes squeezed shut for fear of tears of his own emerging. Memories flashed through her mind, memories of them as a family before this tragedy had occurred. Perhaps her father was right, perhaps they weren't meant to venture beyond the walls of their city. But perhaps Uruvion was right as well. Perhaps if they didn't venture beyond them, there'd be no one to protect them. She knew in that moment what she had to do. She looked up to Greshkan and accepted her bow from him, fierce determination shining in her pupilless eyes.  
>"I wish to become a ranger."<p> 


End file.
